Luminescence
by monochromed
Summary: The rain binds together the earth and the sky, which in all eternity were never destined to meet. A rainy evening, a sudden phone call and a near accident. Serendipity was never something Tifa Lockhart and Rufus Shinra would believe in.
1. Rainy Day Inferno

**Author's Notes: **Er, hi? This is my first FFVII fic and I hope it doesn't suck. Seriously. It's the first time I've written an FFVII fic and I chose the most unlikely pair to get together. But it was fun anyway. So please be kind and review. If you spot a mistake somewhere, please tell me. Don't flame. I get easily disturbed and traumatized.

**Disclaimer: **FFVII belongs to Square Enix. The chapter titles are from a prompt at Livejournal, **16 Candles, **where I am also posting this one!

**Luminescence**

**Chapter 1: Rainy Day Inferno**

Rain.

He had always disliked the rain. He didn't know why. He just did.

A slender hand ran through pale blond hair, blue eyes trained hard and long on the misty road in front of him. Perhaps it was a bad idea, doing the driving himself on this rainy evening. But Rufus Shinra was not the one to be insulted. He was a genius, a prodigy. He knew how to pilot a helicopter; a car wouldn't be much of a difficulty for him. He just had several men who would do the driving or piloting in his stead.

It was the same argument he always had with Tseng, one that the Turk could never win against. Not that the Turk ever won against a verbal joust with the young President. The young man believed in status quo but the younger man believed in efficiency. More brains thinking and more people acting meant more work getting done in less time.

His hand gracefully shifted the gear console, his loafered foot stepping on the accelerator a little harder. Water splashed on the pavement as the white sedan drove through the dark streets of Edge. He merely wanted to go home as soon as possible, lie down and sleep.

He'd been thinking about a lot of things lately. Paperwork. Reno and Rude on an assignment. More paperwork. Conference with the board of directors. More paperwork. Tseng and Elena... somewhere. More paperwork. Reeve overseeing the reconstruction of Midgar, expanding it to Edge. More and more paperwork.

And yes, did he mention more paperwork?

Rufus lazily leaned his cheek against a hand as his car slowed down to a cruise, boredom written all over his face. After a year of recovery, he was back again on his feet and his life was once more a routine. Different, as he was rebuilding Midgar instead of destroying it, but still a routine. A cycle of leaving home, going to the office, and then coming home. Never ending. Perhaps he'd blame the peace in Gaia.

Still, peace was better than getting shot by a WEAPON, avoiding being crushed inside a tower, catching a disease and jumping off a building.

Better indeed.

A shrill tone rang inside the car, pulling him out of his thoughts, and Rufus flipped open his phone, muttering a lazy "What is it?" on the receiver. Trust people to call him on such an ungodly hour. And just when he was on his way home, of all times.

"Yo, Boss! Minor problem here."

Rufus rolled his eyes at the loud, annoying voice of Reno. The Turk would always find a problem in just about anything. That one was already given. "Shoot me."

"Well, we won't be able to go home. Give or take a couple of days."

"And this is because?" His tone clearly spoke of boredom and indifference.

"Landslide. Stupid rain has been falling all over Nibelheim for the last few days and it's making the place creepier. Seriously, we should've made this place livelier when we rebuilt it. And Rude can't pull up the helicopter. Zero visibility."

The President had sent the two Turks back to Nibelheim to check the old mako reactor there. He wanted to get rid of all those eyesores. If he wanted to show the people that Shin-Ra was turning a new leaf over, then there was no need for those reactors, the same ones that would remind the people of the mistakes they had done.

It was for the rebirth of Gaia. The rebirth of Shin-Ra under its Benevolent President.

His blue eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze still focused on the road. He could barely see anything with the rain in the middle of the night. "Fine. Don't get yourself killed. Someone still needs to pick up my suit."

"Like I would anyway." There was a moment's interference then Reno's voice came over again. "Hey, Boss, are you inside a car?"

Rufus scowled at the rear-view mirror. "I'm on my way home."

"Are you _driving_ the car?"

His scowl became more pronounced at the inquiry and his grip on the wheel tightened. "Are you insulting me, Reno?" he asked through gritted teeth.

"Hey, of course not, Boss! I was just, you know, asking. And that's really dangerous, talking on the phone while driving!"

"If you've got anything else to report to me—"

"Oh, yeah! That. But, wait, you're driving the car, right, Boss? Then that just mean I won the bet—"

Static. Rufus guessed that the interference would be because of the rain. Even in Edge, the rain had been incessantly falling for the last few days. It annoyed him. It really did. Plus he didn't really like that last comment of Reno before he lost him. Bet? What bet? Were they all betting whether he could or could not drive a car at all?

He tapped his fingers on the wheel, waiting impatiently for the static to clear up and Reno to start reporting once more. And to explain what that last remark meant.

A minute passed and Rufus was already reaching the ends of his patience. Trust Reno to tell him the least important thing first before moving on to what he needed to know. And when connection problem happened, he had no choice but to wait.

_They_, the Turks, were making _him_, Rufus Shinra, wait.

He stepped once more on the accelerator a little harder, speeding down the dark and empty streets, eager to go home, when a figure suddenly jumped in front of the vehicle, forcing him to stomp on the brakes. The car screeched to a halt and Rufus was thrown forward, his face nearly making intimate contact with the wheel.

"Hey, Boss—"

"SHIT!"

That was definitely a close call.

Rufus tossed his phone on the seat, ignoring Reno's shout of "What happened?" on the other line, and threw open the door. He bolted out of his car, not minding the rain soaking him, wanting to give whoever it was a piece of his mind.

Killing someone in an accident on a rainy evening wasn't one of his top to-do things.

The person, who seemed unhurt and had frozen in his tracks, quickly fled down the street at the sight of him and Rufus cursed even more. Running in the rain after some crazy idiot who tried to kill himself was the least of his priorities in his to-do list as well. He even doubted that he would include something like that.

Whoever he was, Rufus mused as he ran, he was athletic, quickly increasing the length between them. Still, he caught up with him, or rather her, noticing the long dark hair whipping behind, a hand grabbing a lean arm.

"Hey, next time you try to kill yourself, don't—"

Rufus Shinra stopped in mid-sentence, recognizing the face visible under the warm glow of the lamplight, ignoring the cold rain and wind washing over him. It was a face that he hadn't seen for years now, last of which was during her execution day. A jolt of electricity ran through his system and he let go of her arm, falling limply to her side. She didn't seem to feel the urge to run away from him anymore, weariness seemingly to encompass her.

"Lockhart." The face and name of the fighter was still etched in his mind, just as lightning flashed in the darkened skies, bathing them both in light. His blue gaze wandered over the bedraggled, drenched girl, shivering in the cold weather.

"What are you doing here?"


	2. Frozen Sparks

**Disclaimer: **Compilation of FFVII and all of its characters belong to Square Enix. The titles of each chapter are taken from LJ's 16 candles community.

**Chapter 2: Frozen Sparks**

A soft sigh escaped Tifa Lockhart's lips as she stood under the rain, her dark hair falling over her shoulders like a black, heavy curtain. Of all the people who just had to nearly kill her, rush outside and chase her, it just had to be Rufus Shinra. _The_ Rufus Shinra. How luckier could she get? And it just had to be this night, _this _night when she had decided to leave the bar in secret.

Another sigh and she took a step back from him, from his inquiry, a hand holding her arm.

"I am... I was walking around. I couldn't sleep."

She doubted it was an excuse that would sell. Shinra wasn't the type who would buy such lameness anyway. Then again, Shinra wasn't the type who cared.

"Yes," Shinra replied, his voice excessively dripping with sarcasm. He was glaring at her darkly. "You merely walked from your bar to this place, under the rain, in the middle of the night."

Tifa looked away, a frown crossing her face. Somehow, irritation instead of weariness washed over her like cold water, colder than the rain pounding all over her. "Why do you care anyway?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Lockhart. It's not care," Rufus told her flatly, looking like he had finally realized that he was soaked in rainwater. "_You_ jumped in front of my car and nearly killed yourself. If _you_ had died, _I_ would be the one to be blamed."

Somehow, Tifa felt hurt more than annoyed at his words. So indeed, he didn't care about anything else aside from himself. It didn't matter anyway. It was just Rufus Shinra; _he _didn't matter. But still, why was she running away anyway? Had she picked up _his_ habit of running away from problems? To escape for a little while? She didn't know. She guessed that she just wanted to talk to someone, to relieve herself of the heavy burden inside her.

Maybe she should've just gone somewhere... Kalm seemed like a good option. Vincent was probably there anyway.

"Come on, I'll take you back to your home."

The girl looked up at Rufus, a blank glint in her eyes. Did he... Was he just offering a ride back to Seventh Heaven? She could be hearing things but her sense of hearing was quite remarkable that she couldn't be mistaken. She shook her head, sighing, gazing down on the pavement. "Why?"

"Because, obviously, it is a long walk from here to your place and—"

Tifa cut him off with a dismissive wave of her hand. It was most likely the most direct answer Rufus Shinra would give her but she didn't need to hear that. She didn't want to hear that. What she wanted to know was _why_. _Why_ was he offering her a ride home?

"Shinra, I don't understand why you—"

Shinra rolled his eyes and sighed as well, turning to stare at the sky. "Can't we save the interrogation inside the car?"

He sounded desperate now to get out of the rain, Tifa mused absently, but defeated, probably thinking that he wouldn't get any more drenched than this. Perhaps he was worried about his suit, ruined already by the rain. She shook her head yet again, forcing a slight, almost invisible smile. "Well, you go," she told him in the same quiet voice. "I'm not going back to Seventh Heaven. At least, not for now."

She looked up and found him staring at her in disbelief and amusement, a pale eyebrow raised. It puzzled her. She didn't understand why he wore such expression. Was he expecting another reply, a different one?

"Then I'll take you wherever you're planning to go."

It was yet another generous offer from Rufus Shinra, the same man who had tried to execute her three years ago. And she wondered if he really cared or he was just _that_ desperate to get out of the rain. Still, whatever his reason was, the logic of it all just escaped her. She couldn't understand it no matter how much she tried to put the pieces together. Why would someone like him want to help, or at least, offer help to someone like her?

"I'm... not exactly going anywhere specific," she admitted.

"Good. We're going then." He suddenly reached out and grabbed for her arm, firmly but gently dragging her back towards his car. For someone who seemed so fragile, he was quite strong and forceful.

Tifa blinked at the unexpected action and found herself being dragged against her will. Well, maybe not exactly against her will since her legs seemed to be moving on their own accord. Her body and mind wouldn't cooperate and work together again. Still, she didn't like this, being forced and coerced into things she didn't agree upon. Plus, it was Rufus Shinra. She had no idea what the man was thinking.

She dug her heel on the ground, forcing the both of them to stop walking. Shinra looked around, a frown line visible on his forehead.

"What now?"

Tifa scowled back, resting one hand against her hip. This was pissing her off and she didn't know if that was a good thing, since it was distracting her from thinking too much, or a bad thing for the blond President.

"What do you mean, 'what now'?" she started flatly, her dark eyes narrowing into slits. "One, where the hell are you taking me anyway? Two, you do understand that, even though I look like crap right now, I can still kick your ass so you're going way over the line by dragging me like this!"

The President, however, was unfazed, whether by her dry tone or her death threat. He released her arm and stepped back from her.

"Supposedly, I was going to take you back to my condominium since, I have to agree, you do look like crap," he told her, leveling her glare with his own. Tifa opened her mouth to protest but she closed it quickly, not knowing what words to say.

"I was going to offer you a dry set of clothes even a place to stay for the night since you said that you were neither going back to your bar nor going somewhere else. But seeing that you'd rather stay and mope around here under the rain…"

He turned heel and started walking back to his car again, waving a hand in the air. "If you wish to stay here, then that's fine with me. I won't force you. But if you're still planning to kill yourself, then I suggest waiting for another car to pass—"

"Why?"

Tifa saw him, through soaked bangs, stop in his tracks once more, his drenched figure hazy against the mist.

"Two reasons," Shinra replied in a dull tone, looking over his shoulder. "First, I just want to get back home as soon as possible, even if it means that I have to pick up a stray kitten on the way."

He paused for a moment, looking like he was trying to find the right words. "Second, I am interested and curious as to why someone like you would be walking around in Edge, under the rain, in the middle of the night. And I don't buy the insomnia excuse."

Tifa froze at his words, speechless and stunned. She either heard him correctly or she was merely imagining things again. To hear Rufus Shinra say those things to her, it was amazing. He was the same man who nearly wiped her existence from the face of Gaia, who was not afraid to use force to control anyone. He was never interested in anything or anyone but himself. But was he different now? Had he changed?

Clenching her fists, she wondered if it was indeed all right to trust someone like him. She didn't know what he was thinking. She couldn't read him like an open book and yet, she was willing to place her trust in him.

"If I told you…" The fighter hesitated for a moment, asking that question of trust once more in her mind. Still, it wouldn't kill her to try. Her heart would just be broken again if he betrayed her and that wouldn't be any different.

"If I told you—" Tifa started again, taking a deep breath. She could tell that Shinra was listening to her carefully. "—that I had ran away because I was getting tired of my life, would you let me borrow your shower and a hairdryer?"

The young man wordlessly turned to her, studying her for a while. She couldn't read his expression from the spot where she was standing but desperation overtook her when he rounded and headed back to the direction of his car.

Perhaps she was indeed a trusting person, gullible and foolhardy.

"If you're still standing there by the time I get to my car, I won't hesitate to run over you then." His voice called to her from the darkness and she looked up, her eyes wide.

A smile slowly spread across her face and Tifa felt relief wash throughout her entire system. Or perhaps she could trust him just a little bit more.


	3. Incendiary Comment

**Disclaimer: **FFVII and all of its characters belong to Square Enix. The titles of each chapter belong to 16 Candles Community in LJ.

**Chapter 3: Incendiary Comment**

"Why are you in Edge?"

Rufus glanced at the passenger sitting next to him for a moment, taking in her drenched form looking out the window, as he gunned the car engine back to life. She was dripping wet. He was dripping wet as well. There was nothing he could do to the leather seats and the carpet. He just hoped Rude would be able to take care of them after he got back.

"I live in Edge," he responded, turning on the heater. "Well, at least, on the outskirts of Edge."

"I thought you live in Junon..."

"I had a mansion in Junon. But it was quite a long way from Edge."

It was true. His office was in Edge. His home was in Junon. Anyone would get tired one day of driving from Junon to Edge then back to Junon.

"I see."

Then, silence decided to settle between the both of them. It wasn't that Rufus disliked silence. On the contrary, he loved silence. The silence gave him the chance to think and muse and consider a lot of things, another reason why he had made his mind to move to Edge. Peace was something he could never achieve with Reno around.

Still, the silence between him and Lockhart was different from the silence he liked. It was awkward and a heavy tension hung thick in the air, suffocating him.

He wasn't surprised why. What was there to talk about anyway? Two years had passed since their last interaction. And he was threatening her, during that time, just as she was threatening him. She and her group. There wasn't really anything between them that could spark a civil conversation.

"…Did you hear something?"

Rufus frowned at the inquiry, startled. Lockhart looked just as puzzled as he was. The difference was that he had no idea what she was puzzled about. "Hear what?"

The young woman paused, placing a finger over her lips, listening intently. Rufus said nothing, gazing at her from the corner of his blue eyes. After a few minutes, she perked up again.

"There. Did you hear that? I think I hear someone talking."

Usually, hearing things that other people couldn't was a sign of insanity but Rufus voted against saying that one to Tifa. If tempers rose and flared inside the car, he would not get out alive. There was nothing that could save him from a scorned woman, much more from an enraged Tifa Lockhart, except his shotgun. But the girl would most likely have sent him already to dreamland before he could pull the trigger.

"I didn't hear anything—"

To his surprise, Lockhart suddenly bent over and started searching under the dashboard and seat, moving her hand around. After a minute or so of searching, she slowly straightened, producing a slim, silver gadget from under her seat. Rufus blinked again. It was his cell phone. It must've fallen from the seat when he had tossed it haphazardly earlier when she had decided to kill herself and he had decided to stop her.

"I think someone's on the other line," Tifa remarked thoughtfully, activating the speaker function.

"—Yeah, I dunno what happened. Maybe he forgot he was talking to me? Yeah, that could be. The boss is getting a little forgetful these past few days—"

Rufus dragged out an exasperated sigh, briefly meeting Lockhart's confused stare, as Reno chattered on and on, probably to Rude. He could never understand how the red-haired Turk could talk for hours and hours without getting tired or losing his voice. Probably a special ability, but something that wasn't really useful in his duty as a Turk.

But before he could take control of the situation, something way unexpected happened.

"Reno?" Tifa was the first to speak.

Almost immediately, Reno shut up and Rufus fought the urge to bang his head on the wheel. He already knew what would be next.

"Tifa? Is that you, Tifa Lockhart?"

Tifa nodded slightly even though Reno could not see her. "Yeah, it's me."

Rufus could almost see the gears inside Reno's empty head turning and locking into place and it was not looking too well. Reno, _the_ Reno of the Turks, would definitely misunderstand the situation. Not that it was anything new. After all, misunderstanding things was a natural instinct to the Turk but to misunderstand a situation like this…

"Tifa, why do you have the President's cell phone?"

"Oh, well, you see, I'm in his car and—"

"_What?_"

"I said, I'm in his car and I found it—"

"No, I mean, _what_ are _you_ doing in the President's car with the President's cell phone?"

"He sort-of picked me up and—"

"Picked you up?"

The blond young man quickly grabbed the phone from the girl's hand before she could say anything more that Reno could use as ammunition against them. Then again, it was probably too late, seeing that the words had already sent Reno adding things up. And multiplying it exponentially. It was indeed not looking too well. For Tifa Lockhart and for him.

"Tifa, what do you mean he picked—"

"Reno, perhaps Miss Lockhart would appreciate it if you do not interrogate her like some criminal," Rufus retorted flatly, gritting his teeth, glaring darkly at the innocent road. To say he was exasperated, annoyed and everything in between would be an understatement.

There was another pause from the other line and Rufus wondered absently if he should finally give the planet a favor and shoot Reno in the head. He was quite sure that he and Tseng would not miss him too much. After a few minutes of listening at nothing but the rain and the windshield wipers, the Turk started again. "Wow, Boss, this has got to be one of those nights, eh?" Reno commented and Rufus barely had time to ponder on it when Reno continued talking. "I mean, first, you're driving a car and now, you and Lockhart are dating!"

Rufus furiously swerved the car around a corner upon hearing Reno's words, earning a loud "Watch it!" from Lockhart. He was not amused. He was seriously not amused, especially at that last one.

"We are _not_ dating, Reno!"

The young President's blue eyes met Lockhart's mahogany ones, both of them startled at exclaiming the comment at the same time. Apparently, they shared the same sentiments about going out with each other: A big fat 'no'. Again, it wasn't anything new.

"Hear that, Reno? Even Miss Lockhart begs to disagree with your ridiculous notions," Rufus said in the same flat tone, watching the young woman intently as she settled back in her seat, staring outside the window.

"Okay, okay, I believe you," the Turk replied in a tone that sounded disbelieving to Rufus. And that didn't really comfort him one bit. He was quite sure that it'd bite him back sooner or later. "But, wait, Boss, I thought you were on your way home. Does that mean that you and Tifa are going to continue your—"

Rufus did not hesitate to press the end button, cutting Reno off rudely, and tossed his phone in the backseat, fuming. Whatever it was would probably be something stupid anyway. Trust Reno to put meaning into the most trivial details. And of course, knowing how loud the Turk could get, he wouldn't be surprised if the news that he and Lockhart were hooking up would spread through Gaia the next day. Wonderful. Simply wonderful. Maybe picking up Tifa Lockhart from the roadside was such a bad idea, seeing that it would land him perfectly on the front page of the newspaper tomorrow.

"Should I expect a news headline tomorrow?" Tifa asked him dryly, her gaze still trained outside on the empty streets. Whatever she found interesting outside the window, he had no idea.

"I'll inform you, first thing in the morning," he replied, his dryness equaling hers which actually earned him a slight smile. "You may do the honor of throttling Reno after that."

The car rounded another corner and Rufus found himself staring at the condominium building, looming in the distance. The drive back to his unit felt like a ten-year drive, added a few more years courtesy of Reno and his big mouth, and he couldn't wait to take a warm shower and change into dry clothes.

"Shinra..."

"Hmm?" He parked the car in the parking lot in front of the building, turning off the heater and killing the engine. The interior of the car quickly cooled and, in his damp clothes, it was definitely the easiest way to catch pneumonia.

"Are you expecting something from me in return for this?"

Rufus glanced at her, his hand resting on the armrest of the door, his chin leaning on his hand. "I'm flattered that you see me in such light, Lockhart."

"I was just asking. No need for sarcasm." She glared back at him and he rolled his eyes.

The young man stepped out of his car and into the rain, walking briskly to glass door, his hand reaching out for the electronic card key in his pocket. He heard the passenger door open and close behind him. He was quite sure that chivalry—or rather chauvinism, as he expected that she would put it— would not work on the young woman.

He felt her step up beside him as he unlocked the front door of the complex, entering the lobby and striding towards the elevator in a no-nonsense manner. He pressed the single button on the side and it lit up green.

"Were you hurt?"

He could imagine her, staring at him cluelessly, blinking twice as if he just spoke in some other language fluently.

"That we're not dating? You're obviously out of your—"

"No, when I nearly killed you." Rufus rolled his blue eyes. What the hell?

That shut her up, he noted smugly as she paled then blushed darkly, bowing slightly until her hair fell over her shoulders once more, covering her face. She said nothing, probably thinking that he'd throw another sarcastic comment at her direction if she would open her mouth again. He glanced at her, just as the elevator doors open with a faint tone.

Rufus cleared his throat. "Were you hurt?" he repeated the inquiry.

"No," she replied flatly. "Does it matter?"

He stepped inside the elevator, impatiently waiting for her to follow him. She was making this too long for him and he was getting cranky. "Yes, it does."

Lockhart seemed to pause for a moment, as if taking all of it quite slowly, then slowly nodded in understanding. Rufus raised a pale eyebrow at her direction as she stepped inside the elevator beside him, the doors closing with that faint tone once more.

"Does this mean that you don't want me dying on you in your unit?" she asked, tilting her head to one side, her expression calm and composed.

"It means that I don't have to bring you to the hospital for treatment."

Lockhart nodded again and didn't say anything else. Rufus groaned inwardly. If the ride home took him ten years, then this night with Lockhart would probably take him ten centuries to get through. And as Reno would call it, it was "one of those nights".


	4. Decaying Conflagration

**Disclaimer: **Compilation of FFVII and all of its characters belong to Square-Enix. The titles of each chapter belong to LJ's 16candles community.

**Chapter 4: Decaying Conflagration**

_"Shower, through that hallway, second door to your right. The towels should be under the sink." _

Just about everywhere she looked inside the large—not to mention, only—master bathroom, it was immaculate white. The marble floor, the decorated tiles, the silk robes, the linen… Even the wicker hamper was white. The exceptions would be the walls, which was in pale ivory color—still a shade of white, her mind stubbornly told her—and the counter, which was black. Everything else that was not white—namely the mirror, the taps and the shower— was chrome.

Even the unit itself, sitting on the 7th floor of a 10-storey building, was painted in neutral colors: white, black or gray. There wasn't even an artwork or a photograph in sight. And here she was, thinking that rich people always liked art and would buy art, even if the piece looked like a finger-painting handiwork of a three-year-old. If there were any splashes of color, if she had seen splashes of color, they would probably be in subdued tones and solid ones. At least, that was what she could imagine. There wasn't a hint of blue or green or yellow anywhere. Not even a red and to think that the name Rufus meant red.

It was all constructed to Shinra's liking and obviously, he didn't like red. Or bright colors. And to her, it almost seemed like an eerie laboratory or an observation room.

She ran a hand along the smooth marble of the sink and counter, its coolness soothing, her gaze roaming around again. Whether it was out of awe or disbelief, she had no idea. Everything was in order; everything was in place. It was, well, too neat and, in Tifa's opinion, too dull. No wonder the owner of the place was just as neat and dull.

Still, who was she to complain when said owner of the place had offered her to use his shower as well as some dry clothes albeit without the complacent and welcoming tone?

_"You may go ahead and use the bathroom first. I'll find clothes for you to use."_

He spoke as if he was already expecting a debate on bathroom issues and would rather avoid it by giving way. Besides, where would he find clothes for her anyway? Unless it belonged to the female Turk, which, if ever it was, she would not anymore question as to where he had found it, she highly doubted that Rufus would lend her one of his own.

Again, who was she to complain? "Then again, he could always throw me out anytime."

The shower was in another corner of the bathroom, separated in a stall surrounded by frosted glass, as was the bathtub which seemed more like a decorative article than anything. And after a few minutes of testing out the water from the shower, Tifa stripped off her soaked clothes, leaving them on the marble floor. She was quite sure that Rufus wouldn't mind. Not that he'd find out about it anyway as she promised herself to wipe away the water from the floor after her bathroom ritual. She stepped inside the stall under the blast of hot water. Not scalding hot but just right to chase away the chill of the rainwater. The warm shower was a luxury for her that day.

Her eyes then settled on one of the glass ledges along the wall, finding an assortment of toiletries lined up methodically: expensive-looking shampoos and conditioners, liquid soaps, bottles of body wash, perfumed oils and bars of soap. At first, the vanity theory came to play. Until she noticed that most of them, if not all, were still sealed and yet to be opened except for a bottle of shampoo and conditioner and a cream-colored soap.

"Either he didn't buy these things or they're emergency provisions," she murmured to herself, picking up the soap, inhaling its musky scent.

Emergency provisions? Like Rufus Shinra would stock provisions. Who in their right and sane mind would keep soaps and shampoos as emergency provisions anyway?

She now turned her attention to the soap. It definitely belonged to a male. And it definitely belonged to Shinra. It was quite strong and she could feel being intoxicated by the scent. And it smelled almost familiar in a comforting sort of way—

_Wait!_

She suddenly froze at the sudden thought, her sanguine eyes wide, as she stared at the innocent bar of soap. Why the heck did she even think of that? Why would she even think of that? And the way her brain spoke was so natural like it knew and memorized the scent.

Tifa fought off any other reason except the fact that she might have been sitting too long with him in the car. That was it. There should be nothing more to it.

Several minutes of standing under the warm water, still staring at the soap in her hand and debating hotly with her senses, a loud knock and the sound of the door opening startled her out of her wits. Footsteps announced that someone was there with her and who else could it be other than said owner of the soap and the bathroom? She instinctively stepped back into the shadows created by the wall, grabbing anything that she could use as a weapon, an almost low growl escaping her lips. Had Shinra forgotten that she was still showering, for the love of Holy?

A dry voice reverberated inside the bathroom, startling her again. She swore that her heart was beating so fast and so loud that Shinra might be hearing it also.

"One, I can get you in jail for wasting water, Lockhart. Two, please remember that I would like to use hot water too. And three, the hamper is here for a reason."

His empty threats and sarcastic reminders barely registered in her fuzzy brain as she stared at the hazy figure from behind the frosted glass door, sauntering around the room without a care in the world. Well, that was, except one. And it hit her quite hard when she saw the figure bending over the floor as if he had dropped something. Realization dawned Tifa and, blushing darkly, she called out to the man who was apparently picking up her fallen articles of clothing.

"H-Hey, I can take care of my clothes," she told him, trying to sound annoyed. It was her fault, in the first place, for leaving her clothes on the bathroom floor. But still, Rufus Shinra entering the bathroom did not even cross her mind. "You don't need to—"

"Too late. I have already placed them in the hamper."

"Shinra, you didn't touch—"

"I dislike mess, Lockhart," he replied in a matter-of-factly tone, cutting her off without missing a beat. "Oh, and I left the clothes on the counter as I also don't fancy people walking around in my house clothed in simply a towel."

And without even waiting for her response, she heard the door opening and closing with a quiet click and footsteps fading as the man walked away. Tifa peered through the space between the jamb and the shower door, pressing her lips together. He was gone. Just like that. And he had the last word once again. She let out a heavy and relieved sigh, leaning sideways on the cool wall, returning the unopened bottle of shampoo back where she had grabbed it.

What, was she thinking that he would attack her all of a sudden? Not that he could, with her reflexes and all, but she should've considered first the fact that perhaps, just perhaps, there was just no underlying reason as to why Shinra would take her back to his pad. Well, he didn't seem to be doing it for any kind of self-gratification using her.

"That idiot. He could've knocked, for God's sake…"

Tifa found him in the kitchen after she was through with her ice-cold shower, in case Shinra decided to bite her head off again for wasting the hot water. He was still dressed in his white suit which had now dried from waiting for her to finish, his back to her, reading what looked like a small packet, oblivious to anything. What it was, she couldn't really see and she decided to turn her attention to one corner of the kitchen, a passive expression crossing her face.

"If you find the pyjamas a little too big, tell me."

Tifa looked up at his remark as she watched him take two mugs from the shelf above him, busying himself. She fiddled with the hem of the black silk pyjamas she was wearing, shifting her weight from one leg to another, biting her lower lip. The article of clothing was left on the counter inside the bathroom and if she hadn't touched it, she probably wouldn't have noticed it, its color blending with the surface.

"Are they yours?" she asked, looking around the kitchen. Again, everything was white or black or silver.

"Obviously."

Tifa nodded absently, staring at the marble floor. Obviously. Who else would be staying in the unit anyway, aside from him? Did she expect the Turks would stay in the same house with him? Well, she did at first but now, it seemed like a ridiculous notion.

"Coffee?"

His voice startled her again and she realized that she was gaping at him like an idiot for an entire minute. She should really tell him off about that. Tifa met his smirk as he placed a mug on the breakfast table in front of her then leaned back against the kitchen shelf. He seemed to have abandoned reading whatever it was he was holding earlier.

Tifa glanced down at the mug, her slim digits wrapping around the handle hesitantly. The strong aroma of the beverage was overwhelming.

"Don't worry, it's not poisoned," he spoke again then paused, sipping from his own mug. "The Turks aren't here to clean up if I kill you."

She stared at her drink, a million questions running through her mind. But of all the questions she had wanted to ask him, questions that had waited two years before she was given the chance to ask him, she just had to ask the one that she found most ridiculous, not to mention the one that she found most unnecessary.

"You know how to make coffee?"

Shinra gave her a stare that clearly told her that he was not amused. At all. He said nothing for a moment, sipping his coffee broodingly. "Again, I am flattered that you see me in such light, Lockhart. You and Reno and the rest of the Turks."

"From whom did you learn?"

"Tseng. He makes good coffee."

She nodded again after a moment's taste of the dark beverage. It was indeed good, a little bitter on the side but Shinra probably liked his coffee black anyway. Again, she wasn't one to complain. She was in his home, an unwilling and uninvited guest. Although she still wasn't sure if Shinra had invited her out of kindness or out of compensation for nearly killing her. Plus the drink, just like the shower, made her feel at home again, calming her senses down.

Tifa lowered her mug on the glass table, the china clinking softy. "Shinra, why are you doing this—"

"I don't understand why you are asking me 'why'." His eyes were closed peacefully, his own mug settled near his mouth. "Are you a prosecutor now, Lockhart?"

"I was just asking—"

His blue eyes flashed open and he gazed at her in a seemingly thoughtful manner over the rim of his cup. "Then you wouldn't mind if I asked you a few questions as well?"

Tifa looked away, her right hand rising to grasp her left arm, a sign that she wasn't ready for any interrogation yet. Especially one from Shinra. There was nothing to talk about. At least, not with him.

"How unfair it is, for me to answer your inquiries when you refused to answer mine," came his remark to her unspoken reply.

She heard him sigh quietly when she said nothing in response then felt him brush past her, leaving his mug right beside hers on the table.

"I apologize if I have frightened you earlier. I should've knocked, I know."

Tifa looked up and over her shoulder at the quiet comment made by the blond. An apology? From Rufus Shinra, of all people? And not only did Rufus make such a remark but he almost sounded like he had admitted that he was wrong as well. For once. To quote Reno, it was definitely one of those nights. Whether it was a good thing or a bad thing didn't make too much difference to her.

"If you're hungry, you're free to prepare anything in this kitchen. If you need anything, I'll be in the shower. And if you wish to re-enact what I had done, I assure you that I will not complain."

"I'm not hungry. And there's not a force on this planet that would make me enter the bathroom while you're there."

Rufus waved his hand at her and as she looked over his shoulder to gaze at him, she could almost see a small curve on his lips. "Well, then, feel free to stand there for as long as you want."


	5. Silent Embers

**Disclaimer: **FFVII and all of its characters belong to Square Enix while the titles of each chapter belong to LJ's 16 Candles community. No, I'm not profiting over this either.

**Chapter 5: Silent Embers**

Hell. If he was thrown in that fiery pit, Rufus wondered where he would land.

He wasn't violent. At least, he kept murderous intentions in his mind and left them with the specialists during their completion. He wasn't a hypocrite. He was too arrogant to by hypocritical anyway. A traitor to his homeland? Of course not. After all, he had always wanted the best for Gaia. His interests were another story. Sowers of schism and dissent? Now there's a possibility.

He chuckled amusedly to himself, turning the page of the book he was reading, the Inferno. It was a gift from Reeve on his last birthday and up to that day, he had wondered what the implications of the man were by giving him such a book. Perhaps a reminder that he himself was going to hell? Ah, that he had already expected. Why still remind him?

"How long still are you going to sit around here? Are you waiting for me to fall asleep?"

Rufus, reclining against his favorite armchair in the living room, momentarily glanced at the woman lying on his sofa over the edge of his book. Her dark hair spread out in a halo over the white silk pillows, her hands folded on her stomach, she wore an unreadable expression as she faced the ceiling. Only the white pillows, her face and her hands gave him a clue that she was there. Her, or rather, _his_ pajamas simply blended all too well against the black leather of the couch.

To an outsider, maybe, they looked just like a disaster waiting to happen. A ticking time bomb without a warning label. Or just some hallucination the devil created to amuse itself. Obviously, it was too unimaginable to think of a member of AVALANCHE to even stay inside a room with Rufus Shinra in it, much more sleep under the same roof. Not that Rufus didn't share the same sentiments as them. As far as he was concerned, he didn't exactly feel comfortable sleeping inside a house with someone who was more than glad to cut the world some slack by killing him in his sleep.

He was surprised though, to say the least, that no argument came up when he told her flatly that she'd have to sleep on the couch. No, he wasn't a generous host who would offer his bed. He wasn't even generous enough to offer to _share _his bed. For one thing, he'd most likely receive an equally flat 'no' for an answer. Another thing, he did not believe in 'sleeping together'. The couch would do for her, unfortunately. He was certain that they wouldn't have it any other way.

Still, if Reno were to hear a word of their situation, whether they had slept on the same bed or not, there would be a pandemonium around the planet. No doubt about it.

"Does it bother you?" he asked calmly, lowering his book to his lap. His white pajamas were a stark contrast to the dark leather.

The lights all throughout the unit was dimmed, if not turned off, except for the lamp on his side, flooding half of the living room in soft light.

"Not really…"

Rufus's blue gaze flickered at the silver contemporary clock on the wall opposite him, quietly noting the time. It was already past midnight, almost two in the morning to be exact, and he and Lockhart weren't asleep yet. He raised the paperback once more to his eyelevel.

"But, apparently," he remarked, turning another page. "Since you're still awake, that means you're bothered by something."

"No, I'm not. How can say you that?"

"The thoughtful expression on your face."

"I'm wearing a thoughtful expression?"

How more inane could you get? Still, Rufus voted against saying that one out loud again, not wanting to get into a fight in the middle of the night. His carpet was white and he once had heard from Elena that removing bloodstains on white material was a pain. His eyes flickered over her when he heard a sigh escaped her lips.

"I don't think I have milk in my ref." He tried once more focusing on the book he was reading, telling himself in exasperation that he'd been reading the same line for the third time.

"I don't need milk. I'm not a cat."

He let out a sigh himself. She was just too difficult to please. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

Silence answered his inquiry. Once more, her face bore an inscrutable expression and he asked himself if she misunderstood what he had meant by that inquiry. Perhaps it was a mistake to ask such a question. Perhaps she took it rather differently. The positive thing was that she was not getting up and pulling back an arm to punch him.

After another minute of silence, she opened her mouth to reply.

"Talk about what?" She was definitely trying to dodge the point of the question.

Rufus lowered his book once more, staring at the plain white wall in front of him. Reno was right. Perhaps he should place a painting there or something interesting for him to concentrate on when he couldn't sleep at all. He shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. How he hated it when his curiosity got to him.

"The reason why you're here," he asked after releasing his nose, turning to her.

"You picked me up—"

"That's not the answer I want to hear." Yes, he really should place a painting there. Something bright, something cheery, something he could tear up whenever he'd get frustrated. Anything that would stimulate his mind and imagination. A painting of a nude woman sounded promising.

Tifa didn't say anything again within the next few minutes. "Why are you asking these questions?"

"Curiosity. Interest. I wonder how you would call it."

Lockhart made no movement at his reply. "Curiosity kills the cat."

A pale eyebrow rose in amusement at the famous quotation. "Perhaps so, however I am not a cat," he echoed her words earlier, closing his eyes peacefully.

If she had noticed that he merely threw back her statement earlier, she was hiding it quite well. She stretched out an arm in front of her, her hand held out. "And what makes you think that I would answer—"

"Was it Cloud Strife?"

It took him a full minute to comprehend what he had just said and he almost instinctively reached out to his side, only to realize that his gun was not there. However, his mind retorted quickly, insisting that he had merely blurted those words out of irritation. Their question and answer portion would simply go on pointlessly until one of them gave up. He merely gave way and brought out the point. His blue eyes flickered over her, observing her next movements intently.

Her eyes closed, she fisted a trembling hand around her shirt. He wasn't quite sure what her answer might be but it was apparent that the name had hit her hard. People were too easy to read, even without them speaking. Their actions, their expressions, they were just too obvious. Too open. Too vulnerable. He could now see possibilities, different ones, as to why she had left her house. He heard a harsh sigh that almost sounded a sob. Was she crying? After another moment of silence, she opened her mouth.

"And what makes you think that?" Her voice was calm and even, void of any emotion.

What made him think that? Well, there were a lot of possibilities he could think of that moment. The most logical one would be an argument of sorts. He wasn't type of person who would bother to poke his nose into other people's business. He was neither nosy nor sympathetic. More like apathetic and curious. Another reason would probably be Cloud Strife not coming home again. The list was endless, especially when Cloud Strife was involved.

"Well?" came her impatient voice. She had sat up and turned around to face him, their eyes meeting. "_Well_?"

"Because…" He took a deep breath inwardly, half-dreading, half-anticipating what might happen after his reply. If he made a mistake, he was done for. He was sure of it. His next memory would that of the next day.

"I've always thought that the one person who could truly affect you was Cloud Strife. That much so as to force you to walk under the rain in the middle of the night."

He saw her eyes widened for a moment, her expression changing from impatience to astonishment. Her entire body had stiffened and her hands had balled into fists, as if she wasn't expecting such an honest answer from him. To be fair, he wasn't expecting himself to give such an honest answer either. He was hoping to get her in a comfortable argument, not something like this. He coughed quietly, sensing the thick tension surrounding them. Perhaps he should've continued his reading in his loft.

He now wondered if he had said something wrong. Perhaps he had, judging by her quiet reply yet again. This time, he realized, that he shouldn't push the topic much. Not that he was afraid of being punched out. No. As apathetic as he was, he was considerate enough to leave the issue as is. He probably wouldn't get a decent reply—

"We had an argument earlier…"

Rufus looked startled when Lockhart started, her voice sounding amused. Bitterly amused. Her legs were folded underneath her, her shoulders hunched over, her hair falling over them and covering her face.

"Well, not exactly an argument," she told him, laughing softly. "Cloud didn't argue with me usually. He'd just sit there and listen and then apologize. We were lucky that Barret took Marlene and Denzel away for the weekend. I sure didn't want them to hear another one of our petty squabbles. And it always made me feel bad, him apologizing over and over again…"

Rufus listened tolerantly, not a word leaving his lips. Did he even want to hear this? It almost sounded like those scenes in a series Elena was watching where he would catch the Turk crying, biting the corner of a handkerchief. But he told himself that he should. He had opened this topic in the first place anyway.

"I guess…" There was now an audible crack in her voice. She must be trying to keep herself together still. "I was too excited, too eager. I thought that, after all that had happened, everything will finally fall into place. It was probably stupid of me… to even think that he had changed…"

Well, he had no comment for that. But she wasn't stupid, that was for sure. Perhaps expectant, hopeful. Too hopeful. Rufus gave the clock a momentary glance before he looked once more at the girl. No longer a girl, indeed.

"Thank you for the story." He had stood up, his book in one hand, his gaze trained on the blank white wall. "But I should be getting some sleep now."

She was looking up at him, a slight smile on her features. Was she thanking him for not encouraging her to continue? Or was she thanking him because she had opened the issue up and let her release at least some of her burdens? He wasn't sure. And he didn't specifically care.

"Well, then, go," he told her pointedly, those three words unconsciously spoken.

Lockhart's expression had changed again, puzzled by his instructions. "Go? Go where?"

"Upstairs. You can use the bed."

Rufus was now standing there stupidly. Why was he even saying those things to her? Offering his bed? He could might as well offer her a house to stay in forever. It seemed that it was one of those moments when his mouth and his brain didn't cooperate when it should. He wasn't used to it. The people around him wasn't used to it either.

She still looked confused. "Where would you sleep?" She paused for a moment before her eyes narrowed. "You're not implying—"

"I am not suicidal, Lockhart, to even think of sleeping on the same bed with you," he countered flatly. What the… "The couch is big enough for me, I assure you. Just leave the pillow and the blanket there."

"All right then. Since you insist. But are you sure—"

"One more question and you may sleep in the bathroom."

Lockhart wordlessly got off the couch and walked towards the stairs leading to the bedroom loft, her footsteps quiet against the marble floor, just as Rufus sat down on the couch, wanting to bang his head on the coffee table. Either it was one of his random bouts of insanity—or was it stupidity, in this case?—or he was starting to get sympathetic. Maybe he should take a scalding bath tomorrow to clear his brain.

"Rufus…"

He had barely realized that she had called him by his first name, too caught up with the situation that he had just given up his king-sized bed to Tifa Lockhart.

"One more question—"

"It's not a question. I just want to say thank you. And goodnight."

He looked over his shoulder, stunned to say anything, only to find that the young woman had finally disappeared upstairs. With an inward sigh and a soft grumble under his breath, he turned off the lamp and lay down on the couch, an arm over his eyes.

He could still smell the scent of her hair on the pillow, assaulting his senses. It was his scent. She wore _his _scent and somehow, the thought of it made him feel troubled, unnerved and, at the same time, morbidly comforted. Rufus fought the urge to shoot himself in the head and merely turned to his side, facing the couch.

It had to be his random bouts of insanity. It had to be.


	6. Warm Glow

**Notes: **The lateness of this chapter is because of NaNoWriMo. It should've been posted last month but I was busy with NaNo. I had neglected all of my other fics because of it so don't go crazy on me and say that I was too slow yaddah yaddah. The next chapter also might take a while so please please please please be patient with me. I am trying to get back to my routine.

**Disclaimer: **Compilation of FFVII belongs to Square Enix. And the titles of this fic are from LJ's 16 Candles community.

**Chapter 6: Warm Glow**

It was still raining that morning as well, sleepy Edge looking more and more gloomy in the mist. The sun had already risen, the bedside clock telling her that it was already a little bit over six in the morning but the dark rain clouds were obscuring it from sight, an opaque veil of condensed water. Tifa let out a sigh as her fingers released the blinds, a frown line creasing her forehead. She had barely slept. She just wasn't used to it, a large bed with silk covers and too fluffy pillows. She would never get used to it, no matter how many times, how many hours she would sleep on it. Perhaps she should've just argued over the couch. With another sigh, she pulled her hair into a ponytail with the red ribbon usually tied around her arm and decided to start her day's work—

—Only for her to realize that she was not back in Seventh Heaven. There was no need for her to do her usual chores, no one waiting for her to start.

She paused halfway down the staircase, a hand still fixing her hair. Did she suddenly forget that she was still in Rufus Shinra's house at the moment? It seemed ridiculous, forgetting such glaring evidence that was the white walls. Was Cloud, by any chance, even looking for her? Probably. He's most likely tearing the house apart in search for her. Or probably not. Perhaps he had not even realized that she was gone and, like always, he would simply leave without a note or a word. She was not sure. She didn't want to call home.

Tifa shook her head dismissively after finally landing in the narrow hallway, her free hand on the wall as she tried to find her way under the muted lights of the house. It was quiet, too quiet, that she could probably hear a pin hitting the ground. She felt a set of switches and flicked one of them. Studio lights set on the ceiling of the corridor flickered on before she quickly turned them off, peering out into the void-like space of the living room. There was that eerie feeling again prickling at the back of her neck. The kitchen should be on the other side – she was allowed to use it, Rufus had mentioned – and very quietly, Tifa padded barefoot across the dimly lit expanse of the lounge to the kitchen.

The owner of the unit was still peacefully sleeping on the couch, unaware of his guest currently going on an excursion around his house. He was on his side, facing the coffee table, his arms hanging over the edge of the sofa, his book now forgotten on the floor and his blanket haphazardly thrown over him. He had a rather strange calm expression on his face, removed of any stress or tension, his blond hair tousled.

Tifa fought the urge to laugh loudly, all quandaries from last night forgotten, as she watched him from the corner of her eyes. He didn't look like the usual Rufus Shinra, stern and impassive. There was no commanding presence in him, no authoritative aura. He looked, well, normal. Maybe, if she had never seen him before, if she had never known what he was like, she would've thought that that person was not him at all. He seemed younger, almost her age.

She then paused, a bit hesitant, before she walked over to his figure, glancing at his face. He seemed asleep. He looked and sounded asleep, probably tired from last night. And with her tagging along him, no wonder he was dead to the world. She hesitated again to pick up his fallen book and fix his blanket. Would he suddenly wake up from a sudden movement? Was he a deep sleeper?

Trying to do it as quickly and as quietly as possible, Tifa had bent over to pick up the book, her ponytail falling over her shoulders, her arm barely brushing with his hand, when, much to her astonishment – and near-heart failure moment –, a hand suddenly grabbed her wrist, the grip tight but gentle.

"What do you think you're doing?" His voice was hoarse and still sounded sleepy, still full of dreams.

"I'm uh…" What was _she_ doing? Dark eyes flickered at the book held tightly in her fingers. "I'm just picking up your book. It fell to the floor."

So much for a deep sleeper, he was like a cat, alive and awake at the slightest sound. She gazed at him from the corner of her eyes, watching him sat up, the blanket falling to the floor, and blinked himself awake while fumbling with one hand for the switch of the lamp, his other hand still around her wrist. After a moment, it flicked on, bathing the living room in a warm glow. He resembled more and more like a child under the soft light of the lamp, reminding her of Denzel, his messy hair falling over his eyes, his pajamas crumpled and creased, stifling a yawn every now and then only to fail, seemingly more tired than ever.

She peered at his face, frowning slightly. He obviously wasn't used to sleeping on the couch. If that was the case, then he shouldn't have offered the bed, the arrogant prick.

"You should go upstairs and sleep some more," she told him with a slight smile. "You look like you're going to pass out anytime."

"I'm fine."

Sure you are, she wanted to retort but bit back her tongue. With another smile, she gently tried to tug her arm and wrist out of his grip, causing him to look up at her direction. She wasn't sure if he was still half-asleep but she rather felt that the grasp on her wrist almost seemed insistent, not wanting to let go, not wanting her to leave.

"You really should sleep for another hour," she repeated gently like a mother to her young son. "I'll wake you up after I cook breakfast."

Without another word, he released her arm and swung his legs over the side of the sofa and without another glance, she stalked towards the kitchen, the book still in one hand, her other hand moving to her wrist. Upon arriving there, quickly noticing the switch on the wall, Tifa let light flooded the entire room, her eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness, before she had realized that she was still holding Rufus's book. The Inferno. She frowned at the cover, a devil stepping on the back of a human, setting it on the table. It was strange, that feeling she had earlier. Almost familiar and yet… how should she put it? Unusual?

Well, it was the first time she had seen him react like that. Perhaps he was still half-asleep, still dreaming during that time. She wasn't sure. She couldn't confirm and he didn't say anything else aside from "I'm fine". Still, it really was unusual, seeing that blank, inquiring look in his eyes, a confused glint in them. What was he thinking that moment? What was he seeing? She shifted her weight from one leg to another, a thoughtful look crossing her face. Was she thinking too much again?

Tifa stopped in mid-thought, realizing what she was doing, realizing what she was thinking. She should be cooking breakfast, as she had suddenly blurted out to the young President earlier, not pondering on rather pointless and trivial things. Shaking her head dismissively, she started to move around the kitchen effortlessly, pulling several things from the shelves, taking out food from the ref, opening every drawer and cupboard in search of utensils. It was a kitchen and if there was any specific territory inside a house where she commanded authority, it was that.

Soon, the comforting scent of coffee and the sound of egg and bacon sizzling on the pain filled the kitchen, mingling with the sound of the morning rain from outside. It reminded her of home, of Seventh Heaven, of her breakfast moments with Marlene and Denzel, enough for her to almost fail to remember that she was in another house, cooking for another set of people. The sheer whiteness and spotlessness of the kitchen was a wake-up call to her. Even the silky feel of her clothes against her skin, it felt too surreal.

"Did I frighten you earlier?"

Tifa nearly dropped the pan she was holding upon hearing the voice and wordlessly spun around, a look of disbelief and surprise on her face. Rufus stood in the middle of the kitchen, a foot away from her, his hair combed and his night clothes straightened and fixed, his expression blank once more. On one hand, he held a newspaper. How he had managed to arrive there without her noticing his presence, she had no idea.

"Why are you wearing such a strange look?" he asked as he strode towards the ref, peering inside.

She followed his movements with her eyes, unspeaking for a few minutes, before she opened her mouth, setting down the pan she had been holding. "I thought you were asleep."

"It's already past six. I have work at eight," he replied calmly, returning to the dining table empty-handed and taking seat.

"Is that right?" She stared at him, a frown crease on her forehead, before she turned back to what she was doing. He had work at eight and she didn't know that. "You could've said so last night. I would've woken you up and..." She faltered, not knowing what to say next. And _what_?

"And, well—"

"You would've kissed and greeted me a good morning?"

Tifa froze at his words and whipped around, a look of disbelief on her features, only to find the male in question seated at the table, hidden behind his newspaper. Irritated by his nonchalance, she stormed over to him and snatched the paper away, which merely crumpled under her tight grip. Rufus looked up at her with mild curiosity, a pale eyebrow raised.

"What the hell does that supposed to mean?"

"'That' meaning that remark?" He leaned his chin on a palm, frowning at her in exasperation as if wondering why she had suddenly exploded. "It meant what it should mean. I doubt that there are other meanings to it aside from literally."

How she wanted to roll the newspaper and hit him across the face with it. However, she could obviously see where he was coming at. Standing in the middle of the kitchen like that, the both of them still dressed in pajamas… Much to her displeasure, the image of a housewife was slowly coming into picture. And it did not help much, that Rufus was looking rather content and amused as he peered at her. It really was one of those days. One of those days.

"Fine! Since you're bothered by it so much." She let go of his newspaper and stalked out of the kitchen and back to the living room, rolling her eyes in disbelief and annoyance.

"...You could have at least turned off the stove."

He really was getting amusement out of all of this. She found that rather apparent from his actions. Perhaps the thing earlier was a part of this as well. He must've found it funny to unsuspectingly fool her. A kid who had picked up a stray kitten, that felt like their circumstance at the moment. She plopped down on the sofa with a sigh, her gaze landing briefly on the blanket crumpled at the other end of the seat. It was disconcerting, to say the least. She didn't know who was more stupid: him, for even taking her under his wing, or her, for even believing him. But it wasn't as if—

Her train of thoughts was cut short at the chime of the doorbell, a sound that seemed to have rang throughout the empty house. Almost immediately, she had instinctively stood up to answer the door, despite her doubts and inquiries about the existence of the doorbell. It seemed out of place, seeing that Rufus was the type of person who would not want to be disturbed.

"Yes, may I help you?"

"Miss… Lockhart?"

She blinked twice at the young man in front of her, taking in his impassive expression, his long dark hair and the blonde female beside him, the both of them looking surprised, apprehensive and bewildered. And the suits they were wearing, there was no mistaking them. She could bet everything she owned that she was the reason for that perplexity.

"Tseng and Elena… right?" Rufus didn't tell her that they were coming. Then again, Rufus didn't tell her _anything_!

The male Turk gave her a slight, hesitant smile, still staring at her inquiringly. "Yes. However, may I ask what—"

"Lockhart, you might want to instruct me as to how–" A momentary pause and then... "Tseng, has the assignment I've given you been done already?"

Tifa fought the urge to slap her forehead in exasperation upon hearing that familiar voice floating over her shoulders. She could not even make herself to turn around and look at Rufus, who was most likely standing behind him, holding something he shouldn't be holding. For instance, the pan. And from the way he spoke, he didn't seem to be surprised to see the two of his four Turks standing at his doorway, gaping at them. Both still dressed in complementing pajamas, one them of at the door, the other at the kitchen. Yes, the picture of a couple was very, very clear. One could only imagine what might have happened if it was not Tseng and Elena who had seen them but Reno. Elena though, much to Tifa's relief, seemed to be thinking the same thing.

The female Turk glanced from Tseng, whose face was quite indecipherable, to Tifa, an awkward smile on her lips.

"I'm certain we could report to the President over a cup of coffee, right?"

Tifa could only wish that the ground could swallow her at that moment.


End file.
